


What's Past is Prologue

by Grundy



Series: First Age [23]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Amon Ereb, Gen, Third Kinslaying aftermath, raising peredhil, sins of their past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grundy/pseuds/Grundy
Summary: They've danced around the subject of Fëanor before, but this time there's no avoiding it. The twins have asked to hear about King Fëanaro.





	What's Past is Prologue

Maedhros shuffled the notes in front of him nervously.

He had hoped to defer this discussion, to put it off for as long as possible. But the boys had asked, and he would not prevaricate. They wanted to know who had been king between Finwë and Nolofinwë, and he would tell them.

Elros and Elrond already know a little about Fëanor. Varilon had begun the history of the Noldor in Beleriand with the burning of the ships, so having a talk about how Uncle Fëanor had not been quite in his right mind had been unavoidable.

It was safe to say his father was _not_ a favorite of the twins. While they were somewhat disposed to make allowances for one their guardians had described to them as ‘unwell’, Elros disapproved of his blatant abuse of ships (not to mention the appalling detail of _not checking that everyone was safely off of them first_ ) while Elrond was flatly baffled by anyone deciding that more help to fight the Enemy was ever _not_ a good thing.

So Maedhros did not look forward to the fuller explanation of his father’s deeds that would be required today. He frankly dreaded having to explain his own. The children may well hate both of them once they hear of the Oath.

He looked up at the sound of the door to the schoolroom opening.

Makalaurë was herding the twins in – and only the twins.

“No Glinwen today?” Maedhros asked with a frown.

He would just as soon have a neutral witness to the fact that he was not attempting to conceal any of their crimes from his young kinsmen. And while Glinwen may not know the full history of the Fëanorions, as a daughter of Doriath, she knew enough.

“No,” Makalaurë replied quietly. “I thought it better to let her go with Nyellië for the morning.”

Maedhros shot his brother a half-hearted glare, but turned his attention to the twins, who were sitting in their usual places expectantly. Elros looked eager, but Elrond, the more sensitive of the two was already picking up on the undercurrent of tension.

“Today we will speak of the history of the Noldor from the death of King Finwë in Formenos to the crowning of King Nolofinwë in Mithrim,” he began. “But to understand the history, first we must talk about the family of King Finwë.”

“We learned that already,” Elros said eagerly. “King Finwë married Queen Míriel, also called Þerindë for her great skill, and their son was Prince Curufinwë Fëanaro. Queen Míriel was so tired after his birth that she went to the garden of Lórien to be healed, but she died instead. So King Finwë married again, Queen Indis who was the sister of King Ingwë of the Vanyar, and their children were Princess Findis whose mothername I don’t remember and Prince Arafinwë Ingoldo who stayed in Tirion, and Prince Nolofinwë Arakano and Princess Irimë Lalwen who came to Beleriand.”

Maedhros smiled. Elrond was the more natural scholar of the two, but Elros did pay attention to who was kin, and was plainly proud to show what he had learned.

“Quite right, Elros,” he said. “But there are few details we need to add to that story of who is who, and there is also a bit more to the story of Prince Arafinwë remaining in Aman.”

He had the twins’ undivided attention.

“First, Makalaurë and I have both spoken to you of Queen Indis, who was your forefather Nolofinwë’s mother. What do you remember of what we have told you about her?”

“She is of the Vanyar,” Elros replied promptly. “She is golden-haired like our father and his mother, and Finwë loved her very much.”

“She is said to be very beautiful,” Elrond offered, looking somewhat irritated that Elros had already taken so many of the obvious points. “And she liked gardens.”

The last point might seem somewhat an afterthought, but Maedhros thought it important to try to tell the children something of the people their kin were, rather than just their role in the history of the Noldor.

“She did,” he agreed. “She turned the palace gardens into one of the wonders of Tirion. And while she was beautiful, hers was a rare beauty reflected in both her hröa and her fëa, and I think it is that which drew Finwë to her, for she was remarkably kind to all and her heart was full of love for her kin, even those who troubled her greatly.”

“Why would anyone trouble her?” Elrond asked, his small brows drawing together. “She was the Queen, and kind to all.”

“Prince Fëanaro was not happy that his father had married again, and always saw in Queen Indis a reminder that Queen Míriel had been replaced.”

“But Queen Míriel was dead,” Elros protested. “And she did not want to come back.”

That last part sounded somewhat uncertain, for in the twins’ experience, death was a one-way journey. The idea that the dead would someday be returned to life from the Halls of Awaiting was a hazy theory they didn’t fully credit, especially not compared to the finality of death in Beleriand that they knew far too much of.

“But Queen Indis loved Prince Fëanaro, didn’t she?” was Elrond’s question. “You said she loved all her kin.”

“She did. She treated Prince Fëanaro no different than her own sons, though he refused to see it so.”

Had he not been keeping a careful eye on the twins to gauge their reactions, he might have missed Elrond subtly shifting his chair closer to his brother – a sure sign that one or both boys were upset.

“But why would he do that?” Elros asked in confusion. “His mother would not come back, so Queen Indis was doing for him what a mother should do.”

This was a problem Maedhros had not foreseen in this lesson, he realized. His father’s behavior was unlikely to make any sense whatsoever to a pair of children raised until recently in a Sindarin environment, where the definition of kin was wider and it was not unusual for others to step into the role of parent or sibling in the place of someone who had died.

 “I am afraid you would have to ask my father that,” Maedhros said. “I do not properly understand it myself.”

He understood his father’s loyalty to the mother who had brought him into the world, but he did not understand his animosity toward Indis, who had only ever been concerned for the well-being of her kin, and so far as Maedhros could tell, the son and grandsons of her dear friend Míriel were kin to Indis as surely as if they’d been her own blood.

“But you liked her?” Elrond asked uncertainly.

“I loved her,” Maedhros answered without hesistation. “She was part of my family all my life, and even if my father would not allow me to call her grandmother, she still seemed like one to me. And to my brothers.”

A chuckle from the back of the room drew their attention.

“I believe she was actually Tyelko’s favorite grandmother,” Makalaurë put in. “It was unwise for anyone to insult her in his hearing.”

Anyone save their father, of course.  But anyone less would be facing the worst of their little brother’s temper. Not that Maedhros expected that would be much of a recommendation to the twins, who had known which sons of Fëanor died at Menegroth before they ever set eyes on their kinslaying cousins.

“Celegorm _liked_ people?” Elros said dubiously, as skeptical as if Makalaurë had confessed that elves could actually fly despite all previous warnings that they could not.

“ _Tyelkormo_ ,” Maedhros replied with a slight emphasis to remind them that they were to use Noldorin names for Noldorin elves, “liked and even loved a great many people. Just because someone has done bad things does not mean that they are wholly evil, or that they cannot love.”

Elros was doing his best to hide that he was talking to his brother silently, and Maedhros dearly hoped that whatever Elrond was saying was a reminder that Tyelko had been his brother, as loved by him and Makalaurë as the twins were by each other.

Elrond, surprisingly, had nothing to say aloud.

“To return to Prince Fëanaro, I think he loved Queen Indis in a way, but he would not let himself show it, because he felt it would be disloyal to Queen Míriel. His brothers and sisters he loved, though. He was a good brother to them, at least while they were small.”

“What happened when they were not small anymore?” Elros asked suspiciously.

“When they were both grown, he quarreled often with his brother Prince Nolofinwë, who was very like him in both looks and interests.”

“All brothers quarrel from time to time,” Elrond said sagely. “You and Makalaurë argue sometimes, and Elros and I do too.”

Makalaurë’s amused raised eyebrow from behind the twins told Maedhros he was on his own for this one.

“That is true,” he replied. “But none of us have ever taken a sword to our brother, have we?”

_You did threaten it once or twice_ , Makalaurë reminded him helpfully. _Though only ever to Tyelko…_

Maedhros couldn’t very well glare at his brother without the twins seeing.

_Only when he was so twisted by anger at Luthien and her mortal husband that he was suggesting absolute mad ideas like attacking them without warning_ , he retorted, keeping his expression bland.

“He used a sword on his brother?” Elros squeaked.

Both twins’ eyes were huge.

“He held a sword to his brother,” Makalaurë clarified. “He did not actually harm him. And this was in Aman, where neither of them had ever seen what sword wounds looked like, or known a time when swords were used in earnest. Aman was very different from Beleriand. Here to hold a sword to another is to threaten death. I do not think my father meant that he would kill his brother.”

Elrond’s chair was once again inching closer to his twin. The pair were close enough to touch now without leaning.

“And Prince Fëanaro was punished for lifting a sword against his brother,” Maedhros said reassuringly.

“What did his father say?” Elrond asked nervously.

_A good deal that Father ignored_ , Makalaurë commented drily.

“His father was not the one who punished him,” Maedhros replied. “The Valar were the ones who handed down punishment, for they knew what swords were for much better than most elves of Aman did, and they did not wait to see what King Finwë would do. They banished Prince Fëanaro from Tirion for twelve years, and said he might come back after that time if others would speak for him.”

“His brother would speak for him, wouldn’t he?” Elros demanded.

“Of course!” Maedhros reassured him, for it was clear that the twins were distressed at the idea the punishment could be extended indefinitely. “Prince Nolofinwë said so immediately, as soon as the punishment had been announced. And Queen Indis was not happy to have the prince sent away, though she did not say so publicly. But the Valar had spoken, and so Prince Fëanaro left Tirion and went north to his house in Formenos.”

“Did he have to go by himself?” asked Elrond.

As shocked as the twins might be by the idea of the sword, and as much as they disliked Fëanaro in general, the little one still sounded troubled at the idea of him being sent off by himself for so long.

“No, all seven of us went with him,” Maedhros replied.

“But you hadn’t done anything wrong!” Elros protested.

“Had you done anything wrong when you volunteered to help your brother clean out the kennels last week?” Maedhros asked, remembering an incident in which the older twin had refused to let the younger one take a punishment alone.

The somewhat guilty look in the boy’s eye said plainly that the honest answer to that question was ‘yes’. Maedhros tried not to sigh. It was somewhat irritating to have a good example spoiled, but if _he_ was honest…

“Well, perhaps my brothers and I had done something wrong. After all, we had not managed to convince my father that his quarrels with his brother were hurting many people other than himself and our uncle Nolofinwë,” Maedhros said slowly. “And in any case, it was not easy to stay in Tirion either – if we stayed, everyone would think we were picking our uncle or our mother over our father.”

Both twins frowned.

“Your mother did not go?” Elros asked slowly.

Maedhros would have given much to know what exactly the twins were thinking.

“No, our mother was angry with our father, for she felt he was very wrong to behave as he did, and he would not listen to her when she tried to explain to him how it looked to her eyes. So she remained in Tirion.”

Elrond now looked troubled, but Elros was scowling.

“I still do not like Uncle Fëanaro,” he announced crossly. “He does not think and makes everyone unhappy.”

Elrond was quiet, but that was not necessarily reassuring. Elros let the world know when he was upset, but Elrond tended retreat inward. And they had not yet come to the worst part.

“King Finwë went to Formenos to share the punishment also,” Maedhros continued. “For he felt keenly that his failings had also led to his sons’ behavior.”

Elrond’s frown deepened.

“But then who was in charge in Tirion? It would have been Queen Indis or Prince Nolofinwë, wouldn’t it? And that would only upset Prince Fëanaro more, if he didn’t like Queen Indis and hadn’t made up with his brother yet. He’d think it wasn’t fair.”

Maedhros blinked at that unexpected insight. If a boy of seven could see that so plainly, how had his grandfather missed it?

“Prince Nolofinwë was in charge in Tirion,” he replied slowly. “For Queen Indis felt it was important that a Noldo rule the Noldor. And yes, that did upset Prince Fëanaro.”

“Did you and your brothers miss the rest of your family?” Elros asked unexpectedly, glancing at Elrond out of the corner of his eye.

“Very much,” Maedhros replied. “We missed our mother, and our aunts and uncles, and all our cousins. Because our father was being punished, they could not come to visit, even though they missed us also. And there was very little to cheer us up.”

“There was Tyelperinquar,” Makalaurë corrected. “He is our nephew, our brother Curufinwë’s son, and was born the year after Father was sent to Formenos.”

Elros certainly said something silently to his twin, but the relieved smile on Elrond’s face left Maedhros uninclined to rebuke him for it.

Hopefully the twins were comparing themselves to Tyelpë, which would be fairly accurate. Their nephew had been the sole bright spot in Formenos, the darling of the entire fortress, and his rare visits to his other grandparents in Tirion left nearly everyone in a sour or sulky mood, Curvo and Fëanaro most of all.

Both boys looked expectantly to Maedhros to continue the lesson.

“We had been five years in Formenos when the Valar commanded Father to attend a festival at Taniquetil and be reconciled with our uncle Nolofinwë. Father insisted the rest of us remain at Formenos, for we had not been commanded to go.  We were disappointed, but we used the time well all the same. Curufinwë and his wife took Tyelpë to visit her parents in Tirion, and Tyelkormo took Ambarussa hunting.”

Elrond and Elros smiled, for they were fond of any mention of their twin cousins, if somewhat disappointed that they had never met them. (They had been very upset by Umbarto’s death, but did not know that Amras had died the very day Maedhros and Makalaurë found the pair of them in their cave. Maedhros would cheerfully surrender his remaining hand before admitting Glinwen’s involvement in his death to the twins.)

“I was writing letters to my cousin in Tirion,” Maedhros continued, trying not to think on Findekano, lest he lose his composure. “What were you doing, Kano?”

“I was in the hills below the fortress, composing a new song,” Makalaurë said sadly. “I still remember how the first part was to go, but I have had the heart to finish it.”

“So we were all involved in our own pursuits when a sudden darkness fell on the land, beyond merely the dimness so far from the Trees,” Maedhros continued. “I do not speak for my brothers, but I was afraid, for the darkness was different from any I had known, and I could see no stars above, which had never happened before that I could remember.”

“It was not just darkness,” Makalaurë added. “Fear was part of it, for even if we could not see them, we could still feel the ill intent of Morgoth and his ally Ungoliant as they destroyed the light around them.”

The twins’ eyes were huge, for while the darkness of night or of interior rooms was not unknown or frightening to them, Makalaurë’s invocation of the Enemy made an impression.

“But Grandfather – King Finwë, remember – was not afraid, and he stood firm at the door to the main house, and when Morgoth tried to enter, he forbade him, and Morgoth killed him for it. Then Morgoth stole Father’s jewels, which held the unmarred light of the Trees, and fled.”

The twins were now hand in hand, and Maedhros noted with concern that Elrond’s eyes looked a bit watery.

“Are you boys all right?” he asked. “If the tale is too upsetting, we can stop for the day. You need not learn all the history of the Noldor today.”

“We are fine,” Elros replied after a moment, though his voice was not as confident as usual. “You told us we would learn about King Fëanaro today, and we want to hear it.”


End file.
